Rudolf J. Wiemann

Julie

Julie



Introductory Remark

Fathering is not a chore,
Fatherhood, though, that much more.
In the former to engage
Is a thing that’s all the rage.
Even, yes, the dissolute
Proves himself here quite astute,
Just that with his sins he tends
To ignore its useful ends.
Yea, when thinking of the cost,
Odds are he will soon get lost.
Such a man especially
Shuns the pious ministry,
For he thinks with secret dreadings:
These are people who do weddings.
In this scoundrel’s frame of mind
There exist no ties that bind.
Yea, without a fairer, wiser,
Honorable supervisor
Staggers he about the scene,
Has no shirt that you’d call clean,
In the end grows wrinkled, stooped,
Acts curmudgeon-like and pooped
Until days and nights go by
Where no girl’d give him the eye.
Uncle for this ex-Lothario
Is the best-case last scenario. -
But how different is the the just!
Gladly does he what he must,
Goes downtown to pay his fee,
Says, “I do!” most earnestly,
Hid away and in his glory
Does what is obligatory,
And one morning stands there rather
Proudly as a brand-new father
And shows pleasure, as he should,
Knowing well that he done good.

Julie, the Diaper Doll

So, as we have been projecting,
Mrs. Dorty is expecting.
Mrs. Dolor, meek and mild,
Present to receive the child,
Holds it up and says, “Dear Pott,
Just a girl is what you’ve got.”
(Ah, the Dolor is so clever,
And in this she blunders never!)
Pott, of course, would first refuse
Flatly to accept these news,
But soon seems to reconcile
Hope and fact, and with a smile
And some poise pronounces he,
“Well then! We’re a family!”
Now, this dear child has a truly
Lovely aunt, named Auntie Julie,
So the Potts do soon concur
That this child be named for her.
Julie as a diapered tot
Acts like other tots a lot.
Sometimes, toasty warm and deep
In her crib, she’s fast asleep.
Sometimes, on a lazy day,
She will doze the time away.
Sometimes she is unrelenting
In the way she keeps lamenting,
And no way will she stop crying
Without something pacifying. -
Her belief is, so to say,
What one wants to do, one may!
For concern is not a feature
Of mankind as nature’s creature. -
Oh, you parents, do address
And pay heed to cleanliness!
Herein Mrs. Pott is due
Warmest praise and honor, too.
Bright and early she has cause
To unwrap the diaper’s gauze
Like a package come by mail,
Whereon father Pott turns tail.
But he soon is back, perplexed
By the things that happen next.
When one cleanses Julie’s nose,
He feels badly, and it shows.
How one makes a powder coating
Seems an item well worth noting.
Happiness is theirs at last
When the cleaning hour is past.
These are times when Pott has fun
Playing with the little one.
Whistling pretty melodies,
He will rock her on his knees.
On the cheek with greatest bliss
Plants he his paternal kiss.

A Restless Night

Hup-two-three, without a rest
Races time - we keep abreast.
Pretty, chubby Julie grows
And has shed her swaddling clothes.
It is night. Asleep is Dot -
Doing his routine is Pott.
In her cradle little Julie
Just won’t sleep and is unruly.
Pott believes that chamomile
Cures one’s aches once in a while.
Ineffective is the brew.
Jule makes, “Bah!” and much to-do.
Lordie Lord! What’s so distressing?
Is there something else that’s pressing?
Gladly father Pott proceeds
And helps out to meet the needs.
That’s not it. He walks the floor
Patting her - she cries still more.
Maybe she’d prefer the bed
Where on cozy slumberstead
Both her parents are nearby?
No, for “Bah! Bah!” goes the cry.
Look, a smile lights up her face.
Pott forsakes his resting place
And has only this to say:
“Well! I’ll be ..! There is a way!”

A Festive Morning

Hup-two-three, without a rest
Races time - we keep abreast.
Julie now already stands
And can move without her hands.
It’s a holiday today.
Early Pott begins to lay
Gobs of lather on his stubble
For less scratchy razor trouble.
To the mass he wants to go
Where the singing moves him so.
Dot’s the dutiful retriever
Of his brushed-out tux and beaver.
Meanwhile, Julie keeps on viewing
What her dear old dad is doing.
Soon his chin and cheek are slick,
As much practice makes him quick.
Pott is done, but Jule would rather
Keep on imitating father.
Here the goose quill looks exciting
And inviting for some writing.
Soon the pocket time device’s
Gleam and ‘tic-toc’ sound entices.
Heavens! Look at Julie soar!
Stool and Julie hit the floor.
Julie’s fall is not severe,
Just a slight bump on the rear,
But the fancy watch is shattered
And the inkwell’s contents splattered.
Soft and smooth and warm and fully
Cuddly is the sock when woolly.
So, what toddler would be griping
If one could be found for wiping. -
This so happily effected,
Julie’s goal is redirected. -
Not a blade cuts quicker, deeper
Than a father’s stubble reaper.
What for sports, and what avails
Daddy’s coat a pair of tails?
Here a slash and there a slash,
Now it’s got a lot more dash. -
This so happily effected,
Julie’s goal is redirected. -
In dad’s pipe bowl, deep and snug,
Often forms a hardened plug,
And what smoker hasn’t fussed
With that well-known sooty crust
And will gladly nod approval
When it comes to its removal. -
This so happily effected,
Julie’s goal is redirected. -
A fine beaver paletot
Doesn’t always fit like so
But should not be deemed a fitting
Stool for comfortable sitting!
Look, there’s Pott, back to get dressed
In his formal Sunday’s best.
Sad to see what came to pass,
He must now be skipping mass.

Bad Boys

Hup-two-three, without a rest
Races time - we keep abreast.
Yes, our chubby, charming Jule
Now already goes to school
And attentively enjoys
Generally watching boys.
One who makes her go ‘tut-tut!’
Is that Teddy Vanderputt.
Then there’s Mickey Mickalick.
She and he could never click.
Neither is she very keen
On Pete Sueter, big and mean.
But she’s very fond of eyein’
Curly Fritz, the ranger’s scion.
None but he can do those great
Headstands that are arrow-straight.
Julie giggles and submits:
“You are just no match for Fritz!”
Words like these do agitate.
Julie hastens through the gate.
Bump! The three of them now pitch
Her into a soggy ditch,
Quite delighted, one can tell,
That their plot turned out so well.
Hold it, her comes Fritz. Kerplow!
Splash! They’re in the puddle now.
Fritz then, being quite a guy,
Says, “Dear Julie, please, don’t cry!”
Ruined is the dress of Julie.
For the cost must dig yours truly.

Paternal Worries

Hup-two-three, without a rest
Races time - we keep abreast.
Julie is a big girl now,
Topflight, chubby, smart - and how! -
And her pa says, “Look at this!
One fine marriageable miss!”
To that end there waits, in truth,
More than just one willing youth.
There is Sueter - he is in
Veterinary medicine.
Mickalick did not yet marry -
He runs an apothecary.
Vanderputt is on the list -
Sexton, Sunday organist.
Then there’s Fritz, assistant ranger,
He’d do well to stay a stranger.
As a man in his own right
He would be a welcome sight,
Only that in his case Pott
Would be helping out a lot.
Simply stated, on inspection
Of whatever the direction
Of poor Pott’s paternal gaze,
Nowhere sees he hopeful rays.
Furthermore, there is no doubt
That propriety is out.
One is deeply in love’s grip
And just doesn’t give a rip
Nor does anything but scoff
If the old folks are put off.
Rarely asks a rakish heel:
Just how do the parents feel? -
Yes, such is today’s spoiled youth! -
Awfully, to tell the truth,
Are the young men after Julie,
Something which delights her truly.
But how does it irritate
Pott to see them operate! -
Here, for instance, doesn’t he,
On returning quietly
After dark, spot an invasion
By the home town’s male persuasion,
As three figures stare and strain,
Glued to Julie’s window pane?
Angrily and quite on edge
He soon pokes them from the ledge,
Causing shock and great dismay,
But his pique and anger stay.

Heart Enticing Events

Much admired is, of course,
Someone who can ride a horse.
Sueter on his saddle critter
Hopes to send a heart atwitter,
But the swarm of wasps is wary
And by nature quite contrary.
It is not amused at all
When a rider nears its wall.
Neigh!! The steed is out of sorts,
Drops his head and leaps and snorts.
To the neck and not so cocky,
For Pott’s pleasure, clings the jockey. -
Vanderput, by contrast, brings
Into play the sound of strings,
Hoping to make Julie swoon
And surrender to its tune.
For this sake he’s thought about,
Wrote, composed, and hammered out
Slumber verses most appealing.
Listen as he sings with feeling:

A Serenade
“The eventide is sweet and mild.
What sound hast thy dear heart beguiled?
Be still, my darling, it is I,
Thy Teddy guy,
Thy Teddy with a song and sigh!!
Now in thy lamp-lit sanctum’s sphere
Thou may’st be puttering, my dear;
Now let’st thou fall thy lock’s blond tresses,
Thine outer clothes, thine under dresses,
And now, my sweet, thou slip’st instead
In purest white and go’st to bed.
Ah, when thy bosom gently swells,
Know that my spirit with thee dwells.
And comes perhaps a little flea
And tickles thee -
Be still, my darling, it is I,
Thy Teddy guy.
Thy Teddy guy is tapping ‘Hi!’”

Splash! - Abruptly change to mute
Serenading voice and lute.
Quickly drifts the bard away.
He is sad but makes Pott’s day.

Auntie on a Visit

By surprise, as is her style,
Auntie comes to stay awhile.
Thrilled, the Potts came out to greet,
As she is on Easy Street.
Julie, seeing that her kin
Has in comfort settled in,
Is plain tickled with delight,
And she knows just what to write.
Sueter, a discouraged chap,
Just sought refuge in a nap.
He sits up with manly vim
When this missive reaches him:
“Do you know the blooming rose??
Come to me when no one knows!!”
Proudly, though he should know better
Than show Mickalick his letter,
Seeks he the apothecary.
Oh, how Mick grows pale and chary!
Phitt! There pierces like a dart
Jealousy his throbbing heart.
But he acts not sore nor leery
As he mixes, looking cheery,
Essences into a treat
Which he serves his buddy Pete,
Wishing him a fine flirtation.
And his friend likes the potation.
Full of hope and talk and glee
Keeps he slurping harmlessly.
Soon, though, he feels strangely ill
And falls worrisomely still.
Now he rises from his seat.
Mick says, “For the sake of Pete!
Stay, old fellow! Stick around!”
Whoosh! But he is homeward bound.
Mickalick with stealth and guile
Does not plan to wait awhile
But sneaks out toward where he’s hoping
To effect some interloping.
See the entrance he is making,
Eager and with ardor quaking.
In the dark he does not miss,
Warm and soft, a hand to kiss.
Now he hugs with love’s mad vigor
Boldly a nocturnal figure.
Mickey, you could not be wronger!
This old auntie loves no longer.
Rung in fright, the loud and bright
Bell peals out into the night.
All come running and are armed.
Mickalick is quite alarmed.
Scared and feeling like a dunce,
He attempts to hide at once,
But, ouch-ouch, the blade goes ‘rip!’
Jabbing with its pointy tip.
Feeling pain while brought to bay
Only heightens his dismay.
Scrunch! A crash as Mick comes rushing,
And the wash bowl set goes gushing.
All are mortified and wet.
Mickey sees his chance to get.
Painfully clings to his clothes
Yet the thorny, blooming rose.

In the Garden Tool Shed

Love, one says so neat- and rightly,
Is not to be taken lightly.
And not only does one weigh
Roles which one oneself would play -
No, one too wants to accrue
Knowledge of what others do. -
Strongly from the rumor mill
Does the heavy gossip spill
As concerns Pott’s garden site:
Namely, that when it is night,
There a pair named Jule and Fritz
Often ambulates or sits. -
This report gives, in the main,
Three known characters a pain
Who through jealousy, no doubt,
Had a thoroughly falling-out.
All determine fervently:
This is what I’ve got to see!
Here one sees Pete Sueter head
Slyly for Pott’s garden shed
Where those useful tools stand by,
Stacked together, high and dry.
Whoosh! He hides, and he is quick,
For he spots Mick Mickalick.
Whoosh! Mick, too, heads for the hut,
For he spots Ted Vanderputt.
Whoosh! Ted also moves inside,
For there in the moonlight stride,
As he grudgingly discovers,
The expected pair of lovers.
Ah, how tough the very thought
Of this hostile threesome caught
In a dark and narrow setting -
Where pure anger causes sweating!
There you are! A sudden hairy
Crash-bang-pow! extremely scary.
Sundry garden implements
Join as co-belligerents.
Boom! The musket worsens matters,
Loosing as the threesome scatters.
Whoosh! Now Fritz and Julie race
To that very hiding place,
For they do not fail to spot
With his lantern father Pott.
Nippy scratches at the door.
Pott, he thinks, “Whatever for?”
And astonished as can be
Yells he, “What is this I see!?”
But it’s not all that distressing,
And he says, “You have my blessing!”
Now come mom and auntie too
In their nightgowns into view.
Ah, how now we have a rare,
Touching family affair!!

The end

Solemnly is the awaited
Wedding being celebrated.
Hereby Vanderputt directs
Organ tune and choir effects,
While his tears betray his ache,
Sadly, but for duty’s sake.
Quite subdued in solitude
Pete and Mick together brood,
Trying hard to beat desponding
With a bottle for rebonding. -
Pott is now upon this earth
But of little further worth.
Gone the purpose for his being;
Shriveled up, as we are seeing,
Cap, pipe, coat, and pants look shoddy,
Hanging loosely from his body -
And one now can hear it tell
“Listen, Pott does not look well!”
In the cloud above of late
Waits the warty Sister Fate.
With her scissors’ pair she - snip! -
Cuts Pott’s life’s thread in a blip.
Well, he’s got his peace for certain!

From the German
´Julchen´
by Wilhelm Busch.
Translated by
Rudolf J. Wiemann, P. E.,
St. Paul, USA



Zip! It’s time to draw the curtain.

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Veröffentlicht auf e-Stories.de am 21.01.2005. - Infos zum Urheberrecht / Haftungsausschluss (Disclaimer).

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